


hung up high in the gallery

by Anonymous



Category: Clone High
Genre: (if you squint), Established Relationship, M/M, References to Sex, Set In The 2010s, Size Difference, Size Kink, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, just happy boys in love!!, title is from sunflower by harry styles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: van gogh reflects on the joys of being enamoured while he doodles his boyfriend from memory; and every line on the paper leaving him deeper and deeper in love.
Relationships: JFK & Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High), JFK/Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 104
Collections: Anonymous





	hung up high in the gallery

**Author's Note:**

> posting this on anon bcus i don’t think it’s long enough or good enough to go on my main account! maybe i’ll claim this some day :)
> 
> my contribution to one of my favourite comfort ships, i hope you enjoy! this shop needs more fics!

Today, Vincent Van Gogh, or rather, the clone son of, was taking some time alone today. A lot of things had changed in his life recently, and he was alone a lot less now. He was so used to being alone for so long, that having all these new friends was a lot sometimes. He hung around with his boyfriend’s friends a lot, and thus became his friends by proximity and association. It was good, but overwhelming. Sometimes he needed a day alone to reset. He was sitting on his bed and sketching, too lazy to get his paints that were across the room; and listening to a playlist his boyfriend had made for him, full of songs that made him think of him. 

His boyfriend…. where to start with him. 

JFK had left him like 3 voicemails all along the lines of “Vinnieeeeeee I miss you….. call me back when you get the chance. I just wanna er…. uh, see how you’re doing… I love youuuuuu!!! Talk to me sunflower” or, just whining “Little peachhhhhh” into the phone. He called him that because of his soft orange hair, and his scruffy orange beard, that JFK had thought he was so clever by calling it ‘peach fuzz’. 

Vincent just smiled when he heard them, it felt nice to get voice mails. He’d get back to him later, for now, he wanted to consume himself in his art. He found inspiration where he always found it, in his boyfriend’s handsome face. He didn’t need a reference picture anymore, he’d memorized every detail and committed them all to memory, filed them all under ‘love of my life’ in his brain. Hopelessly staring at him during class had done some good, and made it a lot easier to draw him whenever or wherever, even if he didn’t have a picture or the real life JFK to base the drawing off of. 

Drawings of his boyfriend, that varied in quality, ranging from intricate portraits done in graphite that looked as if he’d taken a photo and turned the saturation down to 0 because he was just that good, to rough pencil sketches on his math homework where an answer should’ve been. The portraits he regularly drew took up residence in the pages of his sketchbooks, expensive canvases he was saving for a special occasion, or the back of a test when he was finished with time to spare. 

As he sketched the creases in JFK’s face whenever he did his signature goofy grin, a grin that Vincent had fallen in love with a million times over, he couldn’t help but smile as well. His smile was ever infectious, even when being captured on paper.

The world was so much warmer now. As warm as the oranges and reds in the autumnal pallets he painted with. Things were prettier, he was happier; and more importantly, hopeful for the future. Hopeful for whatever the future held for he and JFK and their future together. But, also hopeful for whatever the future had in store for he himself, outside of his relationship with JFK. Because, he knew that he’d be able to face whatever the world had to throw at him, as long as he had JFK by his side, encouraging him, and supporting him, and making him laugh with his goofy perspective on things. The earth was a nicer place to be when you had love to give to someone else; and someone else had love to give to you. 

One thing was for sure, he’d never felt warmer than when he was in the warm embrace of his lover. His arms were so strong and so warm, and Vincent loved when they were wrapped around him; holding him to him close. He felt safe and he felt protected, and for the first time in his life, when JFK held him; that nothing could hurt him. He was safe from harm when he was with his boyfriend, and had every faith in the world that JFK would do anything for him. Nothing would hurt him because JFK wouldn’t allow it to. 

His sweaters kept him warm as well, and oh boy did Vincent love his sweaters. He hardly ever wore his own clothes anymore, he was always stealing one of JFK’s hoodies or sweaters, and JFK was happy to supply them because he just thought his boyfriend was so gosh darn cute in them!! Vincent especially liked the Clone State letterman jacket he’d let him wear, that was his absolute favourite. 

Vincent had always been pretty self concious so he always liked his pants and his coats that he always wore to be on the baggier side, but these were on a whole new level. Whenever Vincent wore one of his red and white striped sweaters, the hem line always went down to his knees. And, the sleeves were so big and oversized, he had to roll them up so much just to make sure he never stained them with art supplies while he worked. All of JFK’s clothes were tight on him, but fit Vincent like a dress. Which, Vincent actually liked. He liked the way the fabric swished around him as he walked. 

“My pretty little sunflower,” JFK would always say affectionately, which was usually followed up with Vincent’s slim frame be swept up in his arms as he was kissed silly. Vincent would always laugh and jokingly say, “Cut it out!!” or “John... we’re in public!! or some combination of the two, complete with rosy cheeks and a cute stutter that JFK could never get enough of. But, Vincent never meant it, he never wanted him to ever stopped. He wanted to be held and kissed by his boyfriend forever. 

He wore his baggy clothes. But it wasn’t because it was self concious anymore! He liked to look in the mirror and see that he was wearing something of JFK’s; not like before, when he liked to look in the mirror and see that as much of his petite body was covered as possible. Slowly but surely, JFK was teaching him to appreciate himself, and to love himself. He’d fallen in love with JFK, and somewhere along the way, in his own way, he’d taught him to love himself too. 

Ghandi and Abe always teased him because they thought they didn’t look right on him. But he didn’t care; for the first time in his whole life he was self assured and had a smidge of self confidence. He liked the way he looked in them, and he liked the way he felt in them. Safe, loved and cared for. Wearing one of his boyfriends red sweaters was like getting a hug from him all day. His scent, and his love embedded in every stitch of the woven wool they were made out of. JFK would practically have heart eyes whenever he’d see him in them when he went to his locker between classes. 

“Wow, Vinnie… you look even better than I do in my er… uhhh, sweater,” JFK would always say, accompanied by many kisses all over his face and neck, no matter how many people were in the hallways at the time. 

Vincent blushed at the recollection. 

Vincent likes to wear his sweaters to school especially because, he absolutely loved to gloat that HE is dating JFK! No one else! Just him! So many girls at school wanted JFK, but Vincent was the only one that JFK wanted. How Vincent had managed to pull that off, he’d never understand. JFK carried his books to his glasses and held doors open for him; he was smitten and Vincent didn’t understand what JFK saw in him, but he didn’t question it. 

Audibly, at least. His insecurities still came to dwell in his thoughts. This way of thinking made JFK quite sad, to be quite frank. He didn’t understand why Vincent wondered why he would be with him, because JFK couldn’t think of a single reason why he wouldn’t be with him. JFK loved every single thing about his boyfriend, he had no flaws in his eyes. 

Their dynamic was quite cute, dumbass himbo jock and depressed art student; it wasn’t something you saw very often. You also didn’t see couples with a near 2 foot height difference either, but they had that as well. They were cute in their odd sort of way, a relationship not many saw coming. Opposites attract, as they say. 

Vincent was satisfied with the portrait for now, and moved to sketch his shoulders… his broad shoulders. Everything about JFK was so broad and big and he loved it so much. 

He’s just so BIG, especially compared to Vincent, which had a lot of pros to it. There were few things Vincent liked more than to sit in his lap!! He loves to lay in his lap, or nestled between his long legs at, lunch and they’ll eat lunch outside on the bleachers on hot days. And, JFK pokes the straw through his juice boxes because sometimes he can’t do them himself on days like that. 

He also likes to hide behind JFK when he’s having an anxiety attack in public, or if he gets too anxious to order something he’ll hide behind JFK and let him do it for him because he cannot be seen all. He’s like a shield for him. 

He also loved his hugs, he loved his hugs so so much. Sometimes when things got rough and the world was a bit too scary and a bit too mean, he’d wrap his arms around his boyfriend and burry his face in his tummy and grab onto him like his life depended on it. He also liked when JFK hugged him first. He was always coming up to him from behind and covering his eyes and say “Guess er uhhhh, who!” as if his voice wasn’t a dead give away…

He also liked it when JFK sensed he needed a hug, and picked him up and spun him around in his arms like he was a rag doll, or teddy bear that weighed nothing. 

JFK was a coping mechanism for him in more ways than one. 

JFL always thought that it was so fun to compare hand sizes, JFK was always endlessly amused whenever they did so. His fingers could completely overlap his, and he’d always laugh and say something like, “Look at how uhhhh, little your er- hands are!!! You’re so cute without even trying, sunflower!”

Vincent blushed profusely at that recollection as well.

Vincent loved to be picked up and held and manhandled and carried; and JFK liked to pick him up, and hold him, and manhandle him, and carry him. They were a good match for each other. Sometimes whenever JFK had to run laps during workouts; he’d holds him or carry him on his back. Which, made things a lot more fun. They would talk abt things they saw throughout the park while JFK ran, and he’d laugh whenever Vincent would say he was going to fall off, or “You better not drop me!!”

“You better hold on, uhhh tight! Shortstack!”

Vincent was changing the way JFK saw the world as well. Now, he sees it through an artistic lense; now he sees things with the rose coloured glasses being in love with Vincent had given him. And because of how enamoured he was, he knew he’d never be able to take them off. And, being so in love with Vincent allows him to see beauty in all things and, the world was a better place to experience while in love, JFK had come to find out.

Vincent started to work on the background of the drawing now, his least favourite part. He’d rather be drawing his boyfriend! But, he had to finish the rest of it so it could be a complete picture. 

JFK probably could not remember his own address off the top of his head, but, he remembers vincent’s birthday, their anniversary, to call him every day to make sure he’s taken his meds, and he day he last self harmed so he can congratulate how far he’s come!! vincent is painting jfk’s world with colour, even in places he didnt kno it needed it! he had no idea how dreary his world was, while lacking his sunflower. An existence he never wanted to ever go back to.

Vincent has given him new experiences and vice versa! Sure, JFK was the more experienced in romantic exploits, so he taught him how to kiss and how to fuck, but, Vincent was teaching JFK things as well! He taught him how to listen, how to be a better and more empathetic person, and how to appreciate art, and the details of life. He eyed the world as a painter would, because a painter was his world, and the apple of his own eyes. 

Vincent is a bit more comfortable ordering food in public now because he has his himbo boyfriend that’s nearly 2 feet taller than him behind him encouraging him, placing a hand on his waist or his shoulders, or wrapping his arms around him to know he's with him. And, JFK doesn’t go out and party anymore because now he has more fun kissing his sunflower and watching him draw. And, now he was Vincent to tell him to put his shirt back on whenever he takes it off in public. They help each other. 

JFK calls him every night, and says something to the effect of; “Kiss me through the phone Vinnie.... MUAH!” because he’s just so STUPID, and stupidly in love. And Vincent would laugh, and JFK would whine and pout until he kissed him back. 

He’d never felt so pretty, so loved, so cherished. JFK had his own funny little ways of showing love. He did things like that to show love. He remembered his birthday, he held doors open for him, he whispered sweet nothings in his ear, he bought them a sofa to share like they did in the old days. No one has ever seen JFK so chivalrous, but, being so in love brought the 60s era his clone father came from out of him. 

Vincent was sure the best version of himself, was the one reflecting back to him whenever he looked in JFK’s warm brown eyes.

He was wearing one of his hoodies now, in fact. He brought his sweater paws to his nose and let the scent intoxicate him. He smiled from ear to… lack thereof, though no one was able to see it. Across town, JFK felt a sudden happiness pang in his chest though he didn’t know why. They were in sync even when they weren’t aware of it. When one was happy, the other was as well, or when the other was in pain the other shared the burden. That’s just the way things were, and always would be. 

JFK smelled like hot tamale candies and cherry scented chapstick, and Vincent couldn’t get enough. Being around him made him feel the same joy that getting new art supplies did. Vincent loved to feel this happy all the time.

Vincent’s phone nearly vibrated itself off of his bedside table, his boyfriend was texting him again. 

JFK was affectionately needy at all times, which Vincent got used to, and grew to love; as he did with all his boyfriend’s quirks. It felt great to be needed.  
JFK loved Vincent, his Vinnie, his sunflower, so fucking much. He really, really loved him. It was clear in the way he looked at him, in the way he hung on his every word when Vincent went on and on about what interested him even though JFK didn’t understand it most of the time. It was clear in the way he was hopelessly and completely enamoured by him; hearts practically flooted above his head like in the cartoons whenever he was with him. Van Gogh was on JFK’s mind always; which, was fitting- both were rather small. 

The drawing was finished and he couldn’t wait to show it to JFK the next morning at school. He kept all of the drawings Vincent gave him and hung them up in his locker. Vincent drew things for him all the time, particularly a lot of pictures of them together. JFK loved to have them and see them between classes. JFK hated school because it always made him feel so stupid, but, seeing drawings that his sweet sunflower had drawn for him were always a great pick-me-up. JFK would show them to anyone and everyone no letter if they asked or didn’t, he was just so proud of his peach!!!! His locker neighbour was a bit tired of hearing about each one of them everyday… but, he was happy for the couple. 

JFK really wanted him to paint a self portrait so he could hang it up, and see an artwork of just him. Sure, he had many polaroids and photo booth film strips of him and their dates together up in his locker, but he really wanted a painting. Every picture of Vincent was artwork as far as JFK was confirmed, but a painting would be more special. But, Vincent isn't Quite ready for that. He’s trying, but he isn’t! His self esteem wasn’t quite up to looking at a picture of his own face as a reference for an hour. But JFK was helping him work up the courage to try, and that’s all that mattered to the both of them. 

Vincent saw his phone screen light up with a new notification on it, and picked it up to check it. 

@_jfkennedy63 tagged you in a post!  
Look at how talented my boyfriend is 😍❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️  
I er uhhhh love him so much!!!! 

Vincent smiled as he read the notification, heart doing loopty loops as it usually did whenever JFK was involved. Completely and totally happy, he picked up the phone to call him. 

JFK’s heart was on the same roller coaster ride when he saw that his sunflower was calling him, and he eagerly picked up without question. They both greeted each other with an ‘I love you’; and laughed at the same time when they’d heard their identical words get jumbled up together. 

Life was good. Life was as good as it could ever possibly get.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> i adore you <3
> 
> i might have er uhhhhh.... just wrote this to take my mind off of how DEPRESSED i am so, sorry if this sucks


End file.
